


A Happy Little Christmas

by Anne_Fairchild



Category: Red Cap (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Cuddles, F/M, PWP-ish, Snowbound, Sweetness, VERY light bondage, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 08:38:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15748170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Fairchild/pseuds/Anne_Fairchild
Summary: Both feeling lonely and at loose ends, Giles and Jo enter into a forbidden relationship. Hey, it’s Christmas.





	A Happy Little Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Set immediately post end of series. The relationship is highly risky because Giles is a commissioned officer and Jo is a non-commissioned officer in the same unit. Army no-no. Plus, their boss also has the hots for her, so - yeah. Bad news. In canon, no one is ever nice to Giles except Jo, and Bruce. She tries to befriend him as much as the Army would permit. Everyone else treats both of them like flunkies and like crap.
> 
>  
> 
> [Giles and Jo](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9d/6d/df/9d6ddfeb7886f10cc7be2ad2859c579f.jpg)

Christmas fell on a Friday, and the Boxing Day holiday would be celebrated on the Monday as a Bank Holiday. This meant that very major crime aside, the SIB personnel had a mini-break from Thursday noon through Monday. Burns and one or two others were flying home. Bruce and Angie were hosting a party Christmas Eve, and Giles Vicary and Jo McDonough were both attending; Giles because he had nowhere else to go and spent most holidays on his own, and Jo because right now her life was pretty much in a shambles after Burns’ interference between her and Roper, and his own sad, ineffectual come-on.

There wasn’t a man she trusted right now, Jo thought dispiritedly as she dressed for the party. Men were all selfish, cheating pigs. She was only going to Bruce and Angie’s because she didn’t want turn down their invitation; they were good people. She would be steering very clear of any potential ‘dates’, however. A few drinks, some music, food and laughs and she’d be back in her room on base.

Giles made faces at himself in the mirror as he knotted his tie, ridiculing his efforts. There weren’t going to be any females at the party who would (A) give him a second glance, or (B) go out with him in any case, because he was an officer. If Bruce and Angie had invited him and perhaps only one other officer, that other officer certainly wouldn’t be female, he was sure of that. But Bruce was his closest friend here, so he’d go. It was better than sitting in his flat trying not to be reminded it was Christmas and he was alone.

The party was like its hosts - warm, friendly and inclusively welcoming - and the atmosphere rubbed off on the attendees. Much alcohol was consumed, karaoke begun, and hilarity ensued. Giles soon found himself sans tie and jacket, actually enjoying himself. Jo found herself enjoying the sight of him enjoying himself.

There were different kinds of lonely, Jo thought. Her kind, where she was surrounded by attention both wanted and unwanted, yet still feeling unloved and unvalued - simply a means to an end. She wasn’t Jo McDonough, she was just someone’s bit on the side. And there was Mr Vicary’s loneliness of isolation. He couldn’t date the rank and file if he wanted to - and he had wanted to with Tracy Walters. She couldn’t picture him cruising the bars on a Friday night either. A gentleman trapped in a rather sterile cage of the Army’s making.

Bruce stuck a microphone in his hand and coerced him into singing; he’d had enough to drink that he went along with it - and he was quite good. Jo was surprised to hear he had a lovely voice. With mischief in mind, Angie had handed her a microphone and insisted they do a duet.

She couldn’t sing at all, but she found she enjoyed it anyway, thanks to Vicary’s kind brown eyes, and the warm hand at her waist that technically shouldn’t have been there but what the hell it was Christmas. They’d always got on well together as far as work, respecting what the other brought to the group, which was something the others on the team did not always do. There was so much clawing one’s way up and stepping on everyone around them to make it to the top of the pile and be recognized and promoted. Lately, Jo had begun to think maybe it wasn’t worth it, at least at Hohenbruck. She could only imagine the effect it had on the quiet, sensitive Vicary, who was simply trying to learn and survive in an often-hostile environment.

At some point during the evening, their eyes began to seek each other out across the room as a friendly point of reference. They would catch the other one out, then look away or a little embarrassed. Eventually they sat on a sofa, rather awkwardly trying to make conversation.

“You sang really well. I can’t sing a note,” Jo grimaced cheerfully.

“Thank you. I can’t take credit for the voice, it came in the package,” Giles shrugged in typical self-deprecation. “I’m sure there are things you do very well that I couldn’t do. You’re very…persistent. I’m not…not very aggressive,” he sighed.

“And look where it’s got me,” Jo muttered, half to herself. “You’re far more subtle than I’ll ever be, and more patient. Sometimes, slow and easy wins the race,” she smiled at him. “It takes all kinds to solve puzzles and crimes. All of us together are a good team.”

“I don’t know. If I wasn’t there I don’t think anyone would notice,” Giles sighed, sliding a bit into melancholy.

“Not true,” Jo protested. “It just seems to take forever until they notice and it sticks. That’s the hard part - good job, bad job, they forget the good. It’s tough to get to good, good, bad, good ‘you’re okay’,” she sighed. “And I’d miss you. I really would,” she told him seriously.

“Thanks. You’re the only one besides Sar’ Hornsby who ever sees _me_ , I think. It’s hard sometimes.”

“I know. They shut you up in a box and won’t let you play with anyone else - and even when you try, the others are afraid to play with you. I get it. It’s not fair.”

“No. Not fair. It’s just the Army,” Giles sighed deeply.

“If you could have done anything - anything at all - what would it have been?” Jo asked, genuinely curious. Alcohol had broken down enough barriers between them to have the conversation, and neither was aware exactly when the words began to flow naturally.

“Anything? I haven’t ever gotten to think about it much. It’s always been the Army, because…my family,” he sighed. He thought for a moment. “A writer. A journalist, maybe? A photojournalist,” he decided with a small smile, “as long as I’m dreaming. Maybe if I wash out here - “

“Nah, don’t even talk like that! You’re not someone who gives up - even when others might have.” Jo smiled at him, and almost-but-not-quite put her hand on his arm. “Otherwise you wouldn’t still be here putting up with all the crap.”

“What would you like?” Giles asked. Jo made a face and shrugged.

“To be considered as good a soldier, or as good an investigator, or as good a whatever, as a man, and not have to pretend I’m not a woman to do it,” she frowned. “And to not wear my heart on my sleeve so much.”

“Ah. Well, the latter has its upsides and its downsides,” Giles sighed, “as I well know. The former? I think we’re a way from that yet. It’s not right, it just is. There may not be a lot of them out there, but there are people who appreciate us for ourselves. Somewhere. I keep telling myself,” his voice drifted off wistfully.

It happened then, mutually and spontaneously. They looked up, looked at each other, and felt it - the small spark, the tiny electric frisson. If that was the first reaction, of course the impossibility of it was the almost instantaneous secondary reaction - followed by a bounce back to reaction one. All of this happened so quickly and was so clear that it rather took their breath away. They sat staring at each other, half paralyzed by the idea.

Finally, Giles spoke. “Do you want to go for a coffee?”

“I’d like that.” No protestation, no ‘we can’t’, just a slow toe-dip towards the inevitable. They made their way to Bruce and Angie separately over the next several minutes to say their goodbyes and Happy Christmases. Giles left first. He would wait outside for a few minutes and if Jo didn’t come out he’d just go home. This sudden compulsion was a little frightening, but he was still ready for it to happen, no matter how much his heart raced and his palms sweat. He was reassured because he saw that it was the same for Jo, he knew she felt it too.

She emerged in a few minutes, walking by the car, stopping when Giles called to her. They hadn’t discussed any of this, but they knew they were playing with fire and would do whatever it took so no one would get any ideas. They wouldn’t likely question Giles giving Jo a ride on Christmas Eve, however. And would snigger at the idea of Giles with Jo anyway.

Once they were in the car, alone, they both became tongue-tied and reverted to polite conversation. But they were each aware of the other’s discomfiture, so they laughed a little and it was all right. It wasn’t easy to find somewhere to get a coffee late on Christmas Eve, but eventually Giles spotted a place that would be open another hour and they went in.

“This is crazy,” Jo offered, sipping at her hot brew.

“Yes, it is,” Giles agreed. He reached out and put a hand over hers, deliberately initiating the first touch. “No ‘sirs’, ‘sergeants’ or ‘misters’,” he announced. “I can’t do that. It would be too…too - “

“Agreed,” Jo nodded. “It would be - creepy, like - “

“Yes. Quite,” Giles sighed. “And - I’m only going to say this once, I promise, but I have to ask, for both our sakes. Are you…is this because I outrank you and you feel pressured in any way? Would this not be happening if I wasn’t a commissioned officer? Still time to go back to base and call it a night, Jo.”

Jo looked him in the eye. “No. No, we both felt it, didn’t we? And we know that. I understand why you felt you need to ask, but it makes me sad too. I want this. We want this. I think - I think we deserve it,” she told him, putting her other hand on top of his.

“ ‘Each person deserves a day away in which no problems are confronted, no solutions are searched for.’ “ Giles smiled gently, picking up her hand and pressing his lips to her fingers.

“Is that a quote?”

“Yes. An American author and poet - and wise woman,” he told her.

“It sounds…like heaven.”

“Shall we find out?”

“Yes,” she whispered. She let Giles take her arm and lead her back to the car. They were both silent on the drive to his flat. He opened the door and turned on the lights, then the gas log in the fireplace.

“Cognac or wine or - ?”

“Cognac.” She’d always wondered what it tasted like. She’d only ever had any sort of brandy a few times, and no one she knew would ever have cognac in the drinks cupboard.

“Coming right up,” he smiled, still a bit nervous. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a minute.” He brought her the cognac and disappeared into the bedroom. She kicked off her shoes and put her coat on the stand by the door.

There was only a little evidence of the season visible. No Christmas tree, but a large red poinsettia on the table. A smallish row of Christmas cards on the mantle. A few trinkets and a couple of bottles of glühwine from the Christmas Market. A sticky note with the words ‘Carols From Kings.’ The apartment wasn’t totally sterile, but it wasn’t full of cozy touches either.

Jo wondered about Giles’s family - whether they would be missing him, or whether he missed them. She knew that he’d been expected to join the Coldstream Guards, but hadn’t. It wasn’t clear whether he hadn’t passed entrance or he’d just chosen differently. Either way, relations at home might be strained, and holidays always seemed to compound that. Maybe he wanted to go home for Christmas, but felt he couldn’t risk it.

A guitar sat propped against a bookcase, a camera on the coffee table. Small bits of the mystery that was Giles Vicary. Jo saw something move out of the corner of her eye, and jumped.

“ _Mrreoww_?” A cat jumped up beside her, very large and very fluffy. It was black except for its bib and four white paws.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty moggy,” she smiled, reaching to scratch behind its ears. Giles came into the room, ready to pick the cat up if necessary. She waved him off with a smile. “I love cats,” she told him. That earned her a smile.

“Niniane can be a bit grumpy with company. Probably because I rarely have any,” Giles muttered, tapering off as he realized how pity-inducing the comment was.

“Her name is from…a book?” Jo guessed.

“The King Arthur legends. She was the Lady of the Lake. I found her as a kitten. Someone had tried to drown her.”

“How awful! Did you have lots of pets growing up? We had dogs and cats and the odd hamster. Very odd,” Jo laughed, wanting to feel silly. She needed to feel silly and light-hearted because she wanted Giles to feel that way too.

“Do you like the cognac?” he asked, picking up his glass from the kitchen bar and coming to sit on the sofa.

“I thought I’d wait for you,” she told him quietly, picking up her glass and clinking it lightly against his. “Happy Christmas, Giles.”

“Happy Christmas, Jo.” He took a large mouthful of the brandy and swallowed it slowly, eyes closed. She did the same, as velvet fire slipped down her throat. She could get very used to cognac, she thought.

“It’s lovely,” she smiled. “A bit deadly, I think.”

“Oh, it can be,” he agreed ruefully. “Too many morning afters to remember have taught me that. We had dogs mostly,” he answered her question. “Horses. We never had cats except as mousers. But I couldn’t have a dog here, too difficult to look after. Niniane’s like me. We’re good on our own when we need to be.” This time Giles made no attempt to deflect the comment. Jo tucked her arm in his.

“It’s a lonely life if you want someone special, and not just anyone. I’m finding out how lonely,” she admitted. _Oh great. We have to stop this._ “Hey - I saw your note - ‘Carols From Kings.’ Let’s listen to the re-broadcast,” she suggested.

Giles rose gracefully and went to the stereo, switching on the radio. Jo mused that his bum looked kind of hot in his just-fitted-enough trousers. In a moment, the rich sounds of the King’s College Choir filled the empty corners of the room, along with the Nine Lessons. They listened for a while in companionable silence, sipping the cognac. They had both moved to lie with cushions on the carpet. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine you were home, at a Christmas Eve Service.

As a carol ended, Jo rolled her head on the cushion and when she turned, their noses were almost touching. Giles brushed her lips softly with his own once, and then again more firmly. She felt the fire kindle inside her, natural and honest. She kissed him back in no uncertain terms. He caressed her hair, his thumb brushing over her lips before he leaned in to kiss along her jaw, trailing soft kisses down her neck. Jo carded her fingers through his hair, enjoying the silky feel.

This, Jo thought, was lovely. Giles wasn’t just putting in the time. His kisses and caresses were slow and lingering; his hands romanced her. It had been awhile since a man had made love to her like this. She wondered how long had it been since Giles had been with someone he cared about.

The broadcast ended and began again, but neither of them heard the music this time. They kissed and nibbled at each other in front of the fire for quite a while. Jo felt relaxed and comfortable. A lengthy snog was something she hadn’t had in awhile either; she’d forgotten how much fun it was.

Some time later, Giles rose, turned off the radio and put the empty glasses in the sink. He went to the window and looked out.

“It’s snowing,” he announced. “A white Christmas.” He held out a hand to help Jo up, and she came to stand beside him, looking out at the falling snow. She put an arm about his waist and let her head rest on his shoulder.

“Lovely,” she murmured. She was a little surprised when Giles silently picked her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom; she was also charmed. She pressed kisses to his neck and throat, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. The subtly masculine scent of an expensive cologne emanated from the fabric and from his skin; Jo nuzzled to inhale more of it.

“You smell nice,” she murmured against his neck. He sat her down on the bed. Both were feeling a bit shy and awkward about who was going to remove what, their own, or the other’s. Jo unbuttoned the first button of her blouse, and put Giles’ hand on the next button, then moved to undo more of his. They kissed and nuzzled, their breath becoming shorter as the kisses grew longer and the opened buttons exposed more.

Jo’s first thought on seeing Giles shirtless was, she had to admit it, surprise. Whatever she’d imagined, it wasn’t the understated yet perfectly developed body that was the reality. My goodness Mr Vicary, she thought, you’re hot. And once seen, she had to touch of course. She loved the way he tried to hold back gasps as her fingertips trailed across his chest, and his body’s response to her.

She shivered at the heat of his hands on her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples. He took one of her breasts gently into his mouth, and she moaned at the sensation, pressing his head to her chest, encouraging him with her sighs. She unbuckled his belt and unfastened his trousers, slipping her hands inside to mold his erection through his briefs. He groaned and whimpered against her breast.

They lay back on the bed, naked except for knickers and briefs, and explored each other. It was not a rush of passion, or get-to-the-point obligatory foreplay, but a tender discovery and mutual pleasuring. Jo had almost forgotten the delights of this kind of sex. She found the gentle eroticism of it very arousing, and it endeared Giles to her in new, unexpected ways.

He also knew what he was doing. A bit shy he might be, virginal he wasn’t. She couldn’t stifle a moan as he touched her intimately. Jo soon realized that Giles knew where and how to please her, and he definitely was. It was so intense that she left off trying to reciprocate and just lay back and encouraged him, because it was impossible for her to do anything else.

He had her moaning, crying out, gasping, and a few sounds that surprised her. It wasn’t just his cool, slow fingers, but his mouth. His tongue took her to places she’d forgotten - not just once, but over and over again. Later, she came at just the slightest touch of him, at the thought of what his mouth had done to her. She enjoyed the unhurried sensuality that seemed to emanate naturally from him.

“So _good_ ,” was all she could utter coherently, caressing his face and petting his hair, the dark mop slipping softly through her fingers. She could happily have let it go on and on, but didn’t want to be selfish in the face of his sweet, sexy generosity.

She took him in hand as it were, and into her mouth, and tried to give him the pleasure he’d given her. His eyes grew impossibly dark, all big and black. At first he caressed her face, lightly pushing back her hair, but as he grew more aroused he lay back and closed his eyes, as his attentions had forced her to do in turn.

The sounds he made, the little moans, the soft groans and whimpers, delighted and aroused her further. She didn’t want to wait any longer.

“Giles,” she told him, her voice husky with need, “now, please. I want you inside me now.”

He slid into her with a low groan. She reached up and grasped his buttocks in her hands, pulling him down onto her, deeper.

“That’s it, that’s good. Yessss,” she whispered in his ear, “Come on, my lovely.” His breath was coming in ragged gasps as he thrust helplessly towards his climax. “You feel so good inside me,” she groaned, wanting him to know, to understand it was more than the words for her.

She heard his breath hitch; his hips thrust down hard, and he let go. She felt his warmth fill her, and Giles dropped forward in exhaustion. He made small, helpless sounds, turning his head away from her in embarrassment.

“Hey, now, no need for that. Look at me,” she coaxed. “You were brilliant. That was lovely. Really. I would not just say that without meaning it - every word,” Jo insisted. “Yes, you - I’m talking about you,” she teased. She finally got a small, slightly satisfied smile to curve his lips upward.

He moved a little so that his full weight was no longer on her, but she refused to let him go. She could only guess at what would please him. Since he was so different from most men she knew, she thought he might be pleased by what so many others couldn’t get away from fast enough. She put her arms around him and held him to her so that his head rested on her breast. Pressing her lips to his hair, she ran her fingers through it slowly. One of his hands rested just below her breast, almost beneath her arm; she pressed her arm close to her side, capturing the hand.

“You’re not going anywhere, Mister,” she mumured against his hair. “I’m keeping you.” After several minutes, Jo felt him let out a great sigh, and he relaxed heavily against her.

“Good night,” she whispered.

“ ‘night,” he breathed.

  
                                                                             ***

  
Giles came awake slowly. He could see through the blinds that it was light outside. Jo wasn’t in bed beside him. He stretched - and found he couldn’t. His hands were bound to the bedpost, by what appeared to be a woman’s stockings. He was now fully awake.

Jo sat at the foot of the bed, wearing one of his shirts. She grinned at him, rose, and leaned down to kiss him. Thoroughly.

“Good morning.”

All of Giles’ instincts made him want to struggle to free himself, to fear being helpless with someone he didn’t know well. But he remembered spending the night being held in Jo’s arms. She might be just about the only woman who’d wanted to do that with him, for him. He had trusted her - enough to bring her home, and to open himself to her, and she hadn’t yet betrayed that trust. There was also a distinct twinkle in her eye.

“Um…good morning?”

“Being Christmas and all, and me not having a proper present to give you, I’ve had to improvise,” she smiled, “but I think you’ll like it.”

“I haven’t got anything for you,” he babbled. Jo laughed and kissed him again.

“Oh, I had my present last night. I’m sure you remember giving it to me.” Giles blushed a little.

Jo’s kisses started atop his head and moved slowly - very slowly - downward, gentle and soft. Giles let himself enjoy the tender affection; lord knew he hadn’t had very much of it in his life. Jo’s hands followed her mouth, sweet and loving. As she moved lower, however, there was less sweetness and more overt determination to arouse.

She took a flat pebble of nipple into her mouth with a little nip, and Giles jumped - followed by a gasp and a sigh as she took the nipple into her mouth and sucked it.

“Talk to me, Giles. D’you like this?” Jo asked, sucking hard.

“Ahhh! Yes. Yessss,” he gasped and then sighed, struggling to both get away from the stimulation and return to it. Jo moved to his other nipple, taking her time, repeating her actions until Giles was writhing on the bed.

“Sensitive nipples. Check,” she grinned. She flicked her tongue and licked her way down his body, around and in his navel, stopping at the top of the line of thicker hair that led the way to his pubis. She touched lightly with her fingertips, teasing softly.

“Very pretty,” she told him, fingertips now brushing through his pubic hair, occasionally making teasing contact with his cock. He struggled, whining, hips thrusting upward.

“Jo,” he choked, eyes pleading.

“All in good time,” she assured him. “It _is_ a good time isn’t it?” she asked, wanting to be sure.

“Yesss,” he sighed.

“Well then,” she grinned again, “do you want me to suck your cock, Giles?”

“Ohh. Yess,” through gritted teeth.

Jo knelt above him and gave him what he wanted. She was not as slow or as gentle as she’d been the night before, but more purposeful and very much more to the point. She had changed the dynamic and wanted to push Giles’ boundaries in a way he’d enjoy; she hoped she was doing that. She also wanted very much to give him a sense of his own desirability. He should know that any girl would be lucky to be with him.

“Time for me to go for a little ride, I think.” Jo straddled Giles and lowered herself onto him. She groaned with pleasure and began to move. He moved to meet her without any thought; his body and his need had been let loose, and he was going for it out of the pure drive of want, which had been Jo’s hope. Their mutual pleasure was electric, spurring them both on, careless of anything but their own bodies.

“D’you know,” Jo gasped, “that I’ll never be able to look at you, across the room in a briefing or out in the field, or at my desk - just look at you - without getting as wet as I am now, Giles?”

“ _Christ_!” he gasped, exploding into her with a force he couldn’t remember experiencing since he was a horny fifeen year old. He thought he literally might have seen stars. He scarcely registered that Jo moved to untie him, and he was free.

Jo lay over him, kissing him softly, murmuring love-words in his ear, pressing herself to him in a wash of affection. He had no thought of anything else for several minutes, until Jo buried both of them under the duvet, shivering at the chill she finally felt in the air.

“Happy Christmas,” she murmured against his chest.

“Happy Christmas,” he whispered into her hair.

“I’m starving,” she admitted. He laughed, a cheerful, happy laugh.

“So am I. There _is_ food, I was planning to eat this weekend. I’ll take a shower and get to it.”

“How about _we_ take a shower and _I_ get to it?”

“There is some champagne. Even a pudding - my mother sent it.”

“I’m cold, and hungry, but I don’t want to move,” Jo sighed.

“Me neither. No rush,” Giles told her. Seconds later, his stomach gurgled loudly and they both laughed.

 

                                                                       ***

 

After a leisurely hot shower, Giles put on some lounge trousers and an Ugly Christmas Sweater at which Jo feigned horror. She’d brought an overnight bag with her which Giles hadn’t noticed the night before. She put on yoga leggings and left Giles’ shirt on, at his insistence.

“It certainly never looked that good on me,” he told her.

It was surprising to both of them how easily they worked with and around each other in the small kitchen, Niniane threading in and out between their feet. Food was heated and set out, a cork was popped, and they sat down to a reasonable facsimile of a traditional Christmas meal.

“It’s lovely,” Jo sighed happily. “But just as lovely being here with you if we had none of this,” she told Giles, indicating the spread. He ducked his head, shyly disparaging of the idea, but Jo would have none of it. She took his hand and squeezed it.

“I speak as I find,” she told him. He leaned over the table to kiss her.

“Thank you,” he replied simply.

After their meal they cleared away and tidied up, and settled on the sofa in front of the fire. It had stopped snowing some time during the night, but everything was still covered by at least a foot or two of glistening white. Tomorrow would be soon enough to think about going anywhere. Neither of them wanted to think about leaving their new-found cocoon anyway.

After some prodding on Jo’s part, Giles put a DVD of family photos and video clips in the player. He was self-conscious at first, but after awhile found he enjoyed talking about his family with someone who didn’t know them. It let him view them with a less judgmental eye. It also left him a bit homesick and longing for happier times, especially when he watched his younger, pre-Army self show-jumping.

“It looks as if you’re quite good,” Jo ventured.

“I - was, actually.”

“Do you still ride? I know there are stables on base.”

“Not very much. Once in a while. It’s best…more involving…if you have one horse you know, and who knows you. When you’re a good fit. Then, amazing things can happen.”

Although he hadn’t meant them that way, his words as they related to their situation weren’t lost on either of them.

Jo hadn’t meant to make Giles sad, and she certainly hadn’t wanted to bring up anything that would break the enchanted spell they were under.

“We have three more days. Three whole days. Make the most of it, I say,” she told him, bringing his arm snugly around her and nestling against him. He pressed his lips to her hair.

“It’s a good thing one of us is practical,” Giles sighed. “Left to myself, I have a tendency to ruin everything.”

“Stop that,” she chided gently. “I’m attracted to _you_ , warts and all. If you were trying to be someone else, we wouldn’t be here together, Giles Vicary. You’re doing just fine as yourself. Keep it up. And speaking of - “ Jo moved her free hand into his lap, rubbing suggestively.

“Yes please,” he smiled at her.

They never made it to the bedroom. Afternoon slipped into evening, and Christmas night. They talked, ate, made love, cuddled, and the following day they did it all again.

They could have gone out, driven out into the countryside to a nearby town, gotten more groceries, but neither of them was eager to step into the world outside the one they’d made theirs. Giles phoned the local grocer’s, a few items were delivered, and they had no need to do anything but sate their bodies and their souls.

Giles had never been this deliberately selfish in his life. It should have made him uneasy but it didn’t; it made him purely happy for perhaps the first time in his adult life. The box of Family, and the one of Duty/Honor/Tradition were there on the shelf, but so was a shiny new box labeled ‘Giles’, and he was learning that it was perfectly all right for this box to not only be on the shelf with the others, but to be opened and played with as well.

He was no longer shy about much of anything with Jo, or fearful of being found wanting, or judged. She was happy with him, and that meant a great deal. Her sometimes playful, sometimes erotic and sometimes tender physical affection disarmed him totally. She made him feel wanted for himself.

For her part, Jo had learned that there were men who weren’t thinking only of their own needs, who were kind and caring, and could be wonderful lovers into the bargain. She didn’t have to settle, or allow herself to be used. She had developd a fierce tenderness for Giles she knew she would always have, whatever else happened between them.

Monday had both of them feeling a bit melancholy and trying not to show it. Jo tenderly brushed the hair out of a pensive Giles’s face. His eyes closed in pleasure at her touch, his lips brushing her wrist. She turned his face to her and kissed him as they had kissed on Christmas Eve. If it might be the last time, an echo of the first time was fitting. The difference was that now they didn’t hesitate in uncertainty, and they knew each other’s bodies so that it was all sweet, hot pleasure. There was no hurry - in fact, both of them wanted it to last as long as possible, and afterward lay together, dreamy and damp, until they had to pull themselves out and think about the following day, and back to work.

Later, sitting in front of the fire with a glass of wine while Jo showered, Giles marveled at how his Christmas had turned out. He hadn’t had an expectation of a single thing but being marooned in his flat wishing he were home in England but not willing to bear the awkwardness with his father.

He hadn’t dated a lot of girls, and had slept with even fewer compared to a lot of young men - especially those in the Army. He’d just never been interested in sex as a release of pent-up hormonal energy; he wanted it to mean something, and he wanted his partner to have as much pleasure as he did. He hadn’t thought it was all that unusual, but it seemed as if Jo did. She let him know she more than appreciated him as a lover. It was a new and wonderful feeling. It gave him a confidence he knew he’d lacked, and not just in the bedroom.

It was also scary and sad, when he let himself think about it. Technically, he and Jo couldn’t fraternize at all, never mind be a couple. If Roper and Jo were caught having sex there would be internal repercussions from Sar’ Major. If he and Jo were caught just having a drink together, she could lose a stripe and he could lose his commission. Three days, however happy, were not going to be enough. What would each of them risk for more weekends? How long would it take before one of them was careless. And to what end?

He and Jo came from different worlds. They would share few interests or values. Their families would not be happy; his wouldn’t, at any rate. And while he was happy to be in SIB and not the Guards, Giles wasn’t quite ready to throw away his Army career either. He knew Jo was even more passionate, about both her career and her involvement in SIB.

They would probably never make it as a couple. But dammit, why couldn’t they have this? It was so perfect, for now at least. Until Jo yearned for another testosterone-laden Danger Man and good old Giles seemed awfully tame by comparison. Now was so good. Couldn’t it last at least a bit longer, if they were careful? He wanted it so much.

“Hey.” Jo sat down, snuggling naturally against him. “From the look on your face, I’d guess you’ve been thinking about everything I’ve been thinking about in the shower,” she sighed.

“It’s not fair,” Giles sighed.

“No, it isn’t,” she agreed. “But we have to live with it, don’t we?”

“Does that mean…it stops today, or we live with it as in _live_ with it?” Giles asked, afraid to hear her answer.

“I think,” Jo murmured against his neck, “if we’re very, very careful, until someone reports us, we could still see each other. The first time we get called on it…we have to stop. They’d transfer one of us anyway,” she reasoned. “But we’d have a little while. More than just this weekend.”

“It’s worth that much to you - a possible demotion, and transfer?”

“Yes, it is. Not to you?” She gazed steadily into his face.

“Oh yes, Jo, it would be worth it to me. But I’ve thought…the army might mean more to you than it does to me. If my father thinks the Army has to be my life, _I_ don’t have to think it. I could go into civilian police or detective work, or forensics,” Giles offered. “You…might not have as many options, is what I was thinking. I know an Army career is everything to you.”

“And if they do find out, you’d still pile it all on yourself, wouldn’t you?” Jo fussed, with a frown. “No, the Army can’t be ‘everything’, forever, I know that. And - what we have, it’s not just the ordinary. It’s special, isn’t it?” she asked him.

“God yes,” he assured her. “You can’t imagine - “

“But I can imagine, because it’s been the same for me. So we keep a very low profile, strictly business, and…I’ll try not to look at you.” A small, wicked smile played on her lips as she reminded him of her earlier words on that subject.

“Agreed,” he shivered. “And…once a month or so, we’ll get out of the city. Go where no one will think to look for either of us. And have…this,” Giles sighed, pressing his lips firmly to hers, pulling her almost roughly into his arms.

“Yes. Absolutely. Yes,” Jo moaned in happy agreement.

They’d had their day in which no problems were confronted and no solutions searched for; they’d had three days, in fact. More than some people got in a lifetime. And there would be a tomorrow. That would have to be enough.


End file.
